


such a cliché

by orphan_account



Category: Septiplier - Fandom
Genre: (very gay), A mattress store AU, Ethan ships it HARD, Fluff, Gay, I dont know this probably wont get angsty, M/M, Pining, Pure. Just pure, Texting, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, actor!Jack, cashier!Mark, mature for future chapters because i'm trash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-13
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2019-03-04 12:42:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13364931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Mark works at a mattress store.Jack jumps on mattresses at a mattress store.It must be meant to be.





	1. didn’t wanna fall but then i stepped right in (too late for me)

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know ok? i don't know, i'm sorry khdfsflkn

     “Your total is $26.80. Do you have a discount card?” Mark asked distractedly, his gaze flicking back and forth from the customer to the green-haired man bouncing on a mattress behind him. His eyebrows furrowed, hand coming up to rub his cheek.

     The fucking green-haired dickwad.

     Okay, no, that wasn’t fair. Mark had never spoken to him, so he didn’t know if he was _actually_ a dickwad, but still. The man- he looked to be in maybe his mid or upper twenties- came to the mattress store that Mark worked at _every single day,_ just to play with the pillows and jump on the mattresses and feel the comforters. He never _bought_ anything, he just played with all their shit for a while, said a couple nice words to whatever employee was closest, and left.

     It was so fucking confusing.

     Whenever Mark was working, he just let it happen. It was… kind of cute, actually, watching the man laughing and giggling while he bounced on the mattresses and invited little kids to pillow fights with him. Actually, it seemed he drew _in_ customers. Mark had to admit, his attitude and the atmosphere around him was extremely compelling. How great he was at attracting attention made Mark wonder what field he was in, really. He had to be somewhere in the entertainment industry, and he _had_ to be damn good at whatever it was, if that was the case.

     Half of Mark’s shifts were spent watching the man’s effortless amusement at something so… _childish,_ and just… _silly._ He didn’t know how he did it. Really, he needed lessons or something.

     Mark really wanted to ask him why he loved mattresses so much. He wanted to ask for his name, ask to get coffee sometime. The man was just so damn _fun,_ and honestly… Mark wouldn’t mind having him in his life. Just the positive energy was contagious. Every time the man was in the store, Mark couldn’t help but perk up, his own mood elated by the man’s presence.

     He quickly realized he’d gotten distracted, and focused on the slightly irritated customer. “Ah- s-sorry, I got distracted there for a sec! Did you have a discount card?”

     “Umm. No.” She answered, annoyance dripping from her voice, her lips pursed together. “Can you just take my money? I’ve got places to be.”

     “Yeah, sorry about that.” Mark laughed awkwardly, taking the money she was holding out. Quickly, he counted it, sorting it into the cash register. Giving her a soft smile, he held out three dollar bills and a couple dimes. “Your change is $3.20. Have a nice day.”

     She rolled her eyes, taking her change and grabbing her item.

     Mark watched her go, unable to help the huff of aggravation. People could be fucking dicks. However, he, thankfully, had his own escape! His attention turned to their daily… visitor, sliding over to him as if on autopilot. It was something Mark did multiple times a day, when a particularly douche-y customer would shop. His eyes rolled, a little smile on his face; it was ridiculous to watch the man, but he was adorable.

     He’d been stuck in his thoughts, his gaze focused on the young man, when his co-worker (and friend), Ethan, tapped him viciously on the shoulder.

     He jumped, letting out a squeak of shock. “What the fuck? What is it? Did you break the cash register again?”

     The blue-haired boy narrowed his eyes in distaste. “Listen, that was a mistake, okay? I didn’t break it, it got jammed! Geez. I just noticed you staring at him _again..._ ” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows at Mark and elbowing him.

     He flushed, glancing to the floor in his embarrassment. “S-shut up. I _was not._ ”

     “You totally were! You should ask him for his number. Ooh! Ooh! What if I set up a trap to get you two into some gay torture device? I totally ship-”

****“Shut the fuck up! You’re so loud!” Mark cut him off, his voice a harsh whisper as he slugged the smaller boy in the shoulder lightly. “I don’t even _know_ him! Besides, how many times do I have to tell you-”

     Ethan narrowed his eyes again, looking positively done. “Don’t even try to tell me you’re not gay, dude. It’s bullshit, and we both know it, ‘kay? You’re not foolin’ anybody.” he teased, cracking a grin. “Just let me get you that boy! Please, please, please, please, pleeeeee-”

     Mark groaned rubbing his face and sliding a hand through his hair. “Fuck off! I’m… I’m straight! _Yeah,_ I am.” His facial expression dropped, and his tone changed, as if he was trying to convince himself. “Okay, maybe not,” He grumbled. “But that doesn’t mean I want you to hook me up with some... _stranger_.”

     “Too bad.”

     “Okay, I’m gl- wait, what? No, Ethan, _don’t-”_

     And the man was gone, sliding easily over the counter as he strolled up to this mystery boy that Mark _did_ admittedly spend a lot of time staring at. His mind was fucking _racing._ He hated Ethan, but he also loved him. But he _really_ hated him. Okay, _no,_ he didn’t. But he had to pretend he did, okay? It added to the effect.

     He rubbed his arm, trying to distract himself and look _anywhere_ but where his friend and the guy he kinda liked were currently interacting. Of course, Mark _had_ to bring himself to look anyway.

     Ethan was still on his way over to the man, who had stopped jumping and was wearing this anxious expression, as if he might be worried he’d get in trouble. Honestly, he should get in trouble; it was against store policy to do that kind of shit he did, but he was _so_ fucking adorable, and it made him _so_ happy. Who was he to stop him? It wasn’t really _hurting_ anything. And he was _so cute_ …

     Ah, fuck. They were talking. _They were talking._ Oh God. Oh _God._ He was fucking over. This was a terrible mistake. A terrible, _terrible_ mistake. He should’ve stopped Ethan from going over there. He tried to act like he was distracted by something, frantically grabbing one of the newspapers and holding it over his face. He’d been planning to just hold it there and stare at the jumbled words, but _fuck,_ he just had to look. He let his eyes peek over the paper, just in time to watch the man card a hand through that fluffy green hair.

     He probably physically swooned. Now that the stranger was holding still, he had the chance to take in his features from a safe distance. His slightly upturned nose, the way he twiddled his thumbs and played with his hair, and those eyes. Perfectly blue, and perfectly… _perfect._ He was gawking now, and he knew it. His eyes were just so…

     Oh, fuck. He was looking at him. Had Ethan actually mentioned him? Oh, shit.

     They locked eyes, and Mark could’ve died. No, he _was_ dying, thank you very much. He was absolutely dying, and he couldn’t _breathe,_ and _Jesus, his eyes._ They were so bright and lovely and gorgeous and _someone help him._ He was literally _lost._ When had his heart started pounding…? His head ached, and his stomach was doing fucking _somersaults._ Oh, God. Oh, _God,_ he needed a damn _doctor._

     He clenched the paper in one of his hands, smiling sheepishly at him and waving his fingers a little, half hiding his face. The huge grin that the boy had made Mark fucking _melt_. He watched him giggle, gently waving back at Mark and messing with his hair again afterward.

     Mark couldn’t help but chuckle, lips pulling into a wide grin. After a few moments, the eye contact was too much, so he turned his gaze to the floor and picked at the newspaper. Just before he’d looked away, he noticed the man doing the same, fiddling with his shirt and then pulling his phone out. Mark sneaked another curious glance, his head tilted.

     The man had turned his phone on and a quick scan of the screen had caused his eyes to widen. Frantically, he said some quick words to Ethan, his hands waving in the air and messing with anything and everything. He started running toward the door, yelling something over his shoulder with an apologetic look.

     Mark watched him in confusion, mildly interested in what could’ve been on that phone of his. Maybe he’d been late for something? Oh, well. It’d saved Mark the embarrassment of trying to actually _speak_ to such a cute guy. He was damn thankful for it.

     The rest of the store seemed to suddenly jump back into life, despite Mark not even realizing everything had almost frozen. Other employees were bustling about, a few of them sharing some quick words with Ethan. Customers with shopping carts and kids abruptly reappeared. Mark let out a breath he hadn’t even noticed he was holding, anxiously following Ethan’s hustle back to his register. As soon as he’d hopped back over the counter (and received a yell from another employee), Mark was speedy to ask, “Well? What happened?”

     “He’s totally into you.” Ethan smirked, waving at a customer as a sign that he was open to check them out.

     Mark’s eyes widened, but he bit his tongue, letting his friend handle the shopper and almost immediately getting one for himself, too. It was as if the stream never ended, buyer after buyer checking out with their new belongings. Once it _had_ died out, though, Mark continued his incessant inquiries. “Into me? No he’s not! Is he? Shit, oh God. What happened? What did you _say?”_

     Ethan laughed happily, an excited grin splitting his face. “Doesn’t matter what I said, he’s totally interested in hanging out with you! _And,_ I’ve got some great news.”

     The larger man gave him an expectant look, hands wringing together in apprehension. “What? What is it? Tell me before I cry!”

     “Shut up, loser,” Ethan laughed at his unnecessary dread. “I know how much you like accents, and he’s _sure as hell got one_. I think I might take him for myself. He’s a looker, and his voice is _totally_ adorable! Too bad he’s also _totally into you._ ”

     “An accent? Shit. _Fuck._ ”

     “I _knew_ you’d say that. You’re overwhelmed.”

     “I’m overwhelmed! _”_ He confirmed, eyes widened in exasperation.

     “Hell yeah you are.” Ethan laughed, beckoning another customer over to him. Mark waited impatiently while he passed them their change, his hands fidgeting with whatever they could.

     Mark turned to Ethan again. “And? Is that it? Well, obviously not _it,_ he’s everything I thought he’d be, but…” A small shake of his friend’s head told him there was _more,_ and Mark thought he might die for the second time that day. Was this man seriously fucking perfect?

     “He’s in some sort of off-broadway production of an original play someone wrote. I dunno, he didn’t say much about it, but it was cool. Oh, his name’s Jack. Cute, huh? And the way he looked at you! He was _definitely_ smitten, I mean, who _wouldn’t_ be with a face like yours, dude? Wait, _wait,_ when’s the wedding? Oh, man, I’m so excited!” The boy was talking a mile a minute, his face lit up like a Christmas tree.

     “Ethan, I’ve never even _met_ him!” Mark couldn’t help but laugh at Ethan’s enthusiasm. Meanwhile, he digested all the information. Jack, as he’d learned was his name, was… some sort of actor, it seemed? Well… no, he didn’t have to be an _actor._ Maybe he was one of the behind-the-scenes parts? Or what if he was the director? That’d be fucking cool. _All_ of it was impressive, especially compared to Mark’s job.

     Ethan smiled, chuckling a little and shrugging. “You’re still gonna marry him, and I _better_ be the best man, too.”

     Mark rolled his eyes. “Okay, whatever.”

  


* * *

  


     It was time for their break, as well as a few others on the work force. Among these “others” was Mark’s best female friend, Amy, and another friend named Kathryn.

     “No Tyler?” Mark asked as he sat down, still too hyped up from earlier to possibly even _think_ about food.

     Kathryn shook her head, taking a seat beside Mark. “Nah, he took off today. Said he was sick.”

     Ethan stole the other side of Mark, tossing a few Doritos from his snack-sized bag into his mouth. “Wouldn’t be surprised,” he responded, mouth stuffed. “He never gets sick. It’s… like… black magic or something!”

     “In _English,_ please?” Amy teased with a soft smile, pulling her pale pink hair out of the messy bun it was in. She slipped into the spot next to Ethan.

     The blue-haired boy rolled his eyes. “Fuck you, Amy!” Despite how he’d meant to sound, he broke off at the end with a little giggle. And then he stopped, his entire face brightening and his eyebrows jumping up. “Oh shit, Mark has some _great_ news, ladies!”

     And the attention was on him, everyone gazing at him with keen, excited eyes.

     Mark cleared his throat, his face flushing. “Okay, no, it’s not that big of a-”

     “Let me stop you there, _bucko,_ it is a _huge_ deal! Sounds like I’m just gonna have to tell it. So, you guys know the guy with green hair that always comes and has pillow fights with the little kids and jumps on the mattresses and shit?” His voice was full of animated exhilaration, eyes huge and his hands suddenly out of his bag of chips.

     “Oh, God,” Mark groaned, his head in his hands.

     Amy nodded. “Yeah. I used to yell at him for it, but then I couldn’t anymore because it just made him so happy. Why?” Her stare switched curiously between the ashamed Mark and ecstatic Ethan.

     Kathryn laughed. “I think I know where this is going. I _totally_ see Mark giving him googly eyes all day.”

     “I know, right?” Ethan cheered, giggling with his happiness. “No, no, okay, listen. So, I went and talked to him, since Mark was too much of a loser to do it. It went well, his name is Jack, but that’s not important; he’s _definitely_ got the hots for our own heartthrob of Mattress Warehouse!”

     Everyone was laughing and cheering and smiling, prodding at Mark teasingly.

     “I’m happy for you, idiot!” Amy grinned, ruffling Mark’s hair to make him look up. “Look, he’s all flustered. I think… what did you say his name was… oh, right, Jack, has broken him already.”

     Ethan cracked another broad smile, giving them a thumbs up. “Hell yeah he has! The way they looked at each other… I was about to book a damn hotel room for them right then and there. I told Mark that I _have_ to be the best man. After all, it _was_ me that introduced him to his future husband.” His chest puffed out proudly, hands on his hips.

     “ _Oh, God,”_ Mark repeated, sighing loudly. “We’re not-”

     “Do Amy and I have to fight to the death to be maid of honor? We’ll totally throw down, right here, right now.” Kathryn joked, poking her tongue out at Amy. The other woman busted out in laughter, and then Ethan was laughing again.

     “Someone _fucking help me,”_ Mark moaned, silently grieving his peace and quiet, which was gone for the next… _forever._

     Work would be fucking eventful tomorrow- and probably every day afterward. He was sure of _that much_.


	2. you look so perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gay torture device - Ethan's work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How is this 3333 words idk anyway yeah

     "Hey, Mark! Excited to see your husband today?" Ethan was practically _jumping_ up and down in anticipation, his eyes bright.  
     Today, they were walking around helping customers. This thought alone had Mark in a bad mood. "Someone's chipper today."  
     Ethan looked a little offended, flinching a bit. " _Someone's_ grumpy today."  
     Mark sighed, running his free hand through his hair and sipping his coffee as they approached the doors. "I'm sorry, Ethan. Just didn't sleep well."  
     "It's okay. Jack will cheer you up. He always does!" Ethan beamed, his voice full of assurance and kindness.  
     Without the ability to argue, he just flashed Ethan a grateful smile. "I… _really_ hope so."  
     The rest of the short walk was spent in a comfortable silence, Mark taking the opportunity to just enjoy the morning. There weren't any chirping birds or anything like that, because winter and shit, but the sunrise did cast a gentle, gorgeous golden-pink over everything. It was such a soothing lighting.  
     They slowly walked into the store, clearly not really wanting to be there all that much. They were met with their managers and a few other employees, including Amy, but no one else that Mark saw off the bat. They hardly ever had customers _this_ early, but Mark knew Jack's schedule like the back of his hand. He'd _definitely_ show up soon. Would they actually _talk_? The thought overwhelmed him with anxiety. He'd probably embarrass himself.  
     Trying his best to not think about making a fool of himself, he turned his mind to Jack's eyes, and his gentle face, and soft green hair. Well, he'd never _touched_ it, but it _looked_ soft.  
     New bucket list item: pet cute stranger named Jack's cute hair.  
     Briefly, Mark wondered if he should just accept his fate and gush to Ethan about how cute Jack was. Maybe it'd annoy the younger man to the point where he just... didn't want to hear anything else about Jack. It could make things worse or make them _significantly_ better.  
     Side by side, they made their way to the break room to drop off their shit. Both of them were quiet, but it was a _good_ kind of quiet. Like an understanding and gentle touch. It was… honestly pleasing.   
     Tossing his bags into the break room carelessly, he found himself in front of the tiny mirror they had. He frowned, furrowing his eyebrows at his reflection and messing with his tousled and disoriented hair. In the mirror, he saw Ethan staring at him with a smirk, arms crossed triumphantly.  
     Mark stuffed his hands into his pockets, pink tinging his cheeks. He turned around stiffly to scoot awkwardly out of the room, and Ethan laughed.  
     "I'm just _not gonna say_ _anything_ , you gay mess."  
     Under his breath, he muttered something about Ethan being a dick and told him to fuck off. He shuffled away, resorting to standing around, helpless and lost. Ethan followed him, an easy grin plastered on his face.  
     And thus, the day started, filled with faces- mostly new ones- asking about mattresses and comforter sets and sales and "how much did you say the pillows were?"  
     One face was noticeably absent, and of course it had to be the _one_ person he'd wanted to see so desperately today. Mark never shook off his bad mood, and that was, to be pretty blunt, because there was no Jack.  
     It was so _empty_ without him there, the air almost... icy. The whole thing was weird. He yearned to see that stupidly happy face and that cute hair and the gorgeous eyes, to the point where all he could manage to do was stare longingly at the door for long spans of time. Ethan had described him as, "a lost puppy searching desperately for his owner."  
     Mark was fucking thrilled when the familiar shock of green hair came through the doors. He _literally squealed_ , like a little girl at her favorite boy band's concert. _Stupid_.   
     He was too afraid to approach him, so he resorted to standing around in fear, sneaking glances of the man. Jack seemed to be the same, dodging Mark but occasionally accidentally meeting his gaze.   
     Ethan had kept his promise about the gay torture device, and he'd gotten _everyone_ involved. If you're thinking this sounds like a horror movie already, _just you fucking wait._  
     Mark had noticed the _strange_ lack of customers he was able to help, and how every time he was on his way to someone, one of his co-workers swooped in. Weird, but Mark just brushed it off, strolling around aimlessly.  
     And then he noticed how everyone seemed to be getting onto Jack, which was _especially strange_ , since everyone had long since given up on trying to stop his antics. He was ignoring it, really, telling himself that it was nothing. It was stupid, but seeing everyone yelling at Jack and watching his face just.. _fall_ was so… _painful_.  
     He noticed that he was now cornered, all nearby customers who needed help having it, and _naturally_ the only thing in front of him was Jack, getting in trouble again. He disregarded the feeling in his stomach, shifting along the outskirts of where it was going down. Well, not the _outskirts_ ; he was surprisingly close, so that he could hear.   
     The pillow he tripped on had _not_ been there before.  
     His co-worker stepped aside, and everything was frozen again. This was all too scripted, even as he fell over the damn pillow and landed on top of Jack. He could feel the eyes of the rest of the staff on him. Planned. All of this was _planned_. Ethan Nestor had a  fucking _death wish._  
     Upon landing on top of Jack, he let out a strained and throaty high-pitched noise that he could only describe as ' _fucking hell_.' In his shock, he forgot that he should _probably_ get off of the man under him. His hands were planted on either side of his shoulders, body collapsed on top of Jack's. The man's hands had a death grip on Mark's shirt, looking for something to hold onto.  
     Mark just stared at Jack in confusion and horror, only snapping out of it when Jack shakily spoke, his face as red as Mark's _felt_.  
     "'M pretty sure teh nex' t'ing t'at 'appens s'yeh, like, rollin' off'a me, an' helpin' me up jus' ta tell me t'at ye're me Prince Charmin'. Or somethin'." Upon Mark's lack of response, Jack laughed sheepishly. "Uh, _or_ t'is. T'is works too."  
     The American finally pulled out of his trance, his breath catching at… well, _multiple_ things. First of all, Jack was _even fucking cuter_ up close. Just… just _everything_. All of it was just _deliciously good_ : from the way his cheeks were dusted with a light pink to how his lips parted _just so_ , his teeth barely visible, only to disappear when he poked his tongue out to lick his lips hesitantly. Second of all, his accent _had_ to be the loveliest and most pleasant thing that Mark had ever heard. It was so _gentle_ , and his voice was exuberant, yet so soft and sweet. And third, _oh God, his eyes_. He couldn't _breathe_. He was fucking _helpless_ , even as he shifted off of Jack with stuttering kneecaps.  
     "I'm so sorry," Mark rambled, holding out a hand to Jack and trying to ignore how heated his face was when the man took it. "C-can we just… _skip_ the Prince Charming part?"  
     Jack giggled, his eyes on the ground. "No, t'at s'a _crucial_ part t'at ye're tryin' ta skip."  
     Mark literally _swooned_ , on the verge of falling over. Could too much attraction kill a man? "I… _fine_. Sir, I am your Prince Charming." He reported in a dramatic voice, bowing his head a little.   
     The man shook his head in response, giggling again, which Mark thought was the most adorable thing in the world. "It doesn' _count_ if yeh aren' on yer knees."  
     He laughed, face reddening even further. Despite his embarrassment, he dropped to one knee. He had to play this off. Look cool. _Yeah_. He could do that, _easy_. He tried to overlook all the people staring at him.   
     Mark took one of Jack's hands, his fingers brushing over the knuckles as he wiggled his eyebrows. His blue eyes held a curious, almost impressed glint in them, and Mark felt his heart swell. "Sir," He reiterated, his voice even more dramatic than before. " _I_ am your Prince Charming. Won't you accept my humble offer to save you from yourself?"  
     The look in Jack's eyes was unreadable to Mark, but they were twice as wide as before. Wordlessly, he nodded, his mouth almost hanging open.  
     Mark just grinned, standing in triumph. " _I win_. Bet you didn't think I'd do it."  
     Jack shrugged, grinning to himself. "Ye caugh' me, uhh..." He scanned Mark's uniform, gaze tracing every wrinkle in his shirt until it landed on his name tag. "Merk."  
     Mark chuckled, a little smile on his face.   
     "W'at?" Jack looked disheartened. "What's so funny?"  
     "I dunno, just… the way you say my name. It's cute. What accent is that?"  
     The smaller boy blushed furiously, his eyes darting around in embarrassment. "Irish... uh... t'anks. I t'ink yer voice 's… _ah_... ye 'ave a _really_ nice body, an' shite…"  
     Mark laughed lightly at how flustered the man was. The tides had certainly turned, and it was a great feeling, honestly. He couldn't really explain it. "It's all the uniform." Mark reassured him gently, a modest smile on his lips.  
     Jack smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. "If yeh _say so_. 'M name's Jack, if yer friend didn' already tell yeh. 'E was…"  
     " _Enthusiastic_?" Mark offered, groaning when Jack nodded. "I'm sorry. He can be like that." He held the collar of his shirt between his fingers, anxious all over again. The loud squeal from behind him made him jump. He didn't need to turn around to know it was Ethan. "Speak of the _devil_ …"  
     "Plan _succeeded_! I had to get the _entire fucking staff_ involved. I _expect_ a thank you."   
     "Fuck you."  
     " _Stubborn_. We'll work on it."   
     Mark rolled his eyes, shooting a glare at Ethan. "Fuck you _again_. And I _swear_ , if-"  
     Ethan shoved him out of the way, and he made a high-pitched noise as he fell against a display. " _So_ , Jack, here's _my_ number for when you have to talk to me about how much of a dick Mark is, or like, _wedding plans_. And also, here's _Mark's_ number, because he's too much of a pussy to give it to you…"  
    Voice edged with slight panic, he rebounded from the push and grabbed the paper out of Ethan's hand just as Jack reached for it. He pulled his arm close to his chest, letting out a gagged sound. Voice much too high, he stuttered, "I think that'll be all, Ethan!"  
     Jack snorted, pointing at his hand. "W'at the fock, I still _want_ t'at!"  
     Mark pinched his eyebrows together, grip tightening. "Just because I said that it was _enough_ doesn't mean he _wasn't right._ "  
     The blue-haired boy cackled, pretty much rolling on the ground in his hysterics. "F-fuck! I'm _dead_ ," He wiped tears from his eyes. "See, I know Mark like I know _myself_. He-"  
     "…Ah! _Stop fucking talking_!" He covered his face in embarrassment, expecting Ethan to go on, but his friend stopped the sentence there, laughing evilly. "Anyway, ah... I'm not-"  
     Jack jumped on him, and Mark let out a soft grunt in shock, trying to let his brain catch up. The Irishman’s hand wrapped around his wrist, and he shoved his entire body into Mark, using his free hand to attempt to pry his fist apart. " _Gimme it,_ fockin'-"  
     For his small stature, Jack was a _surprisingly_ capable man. Though, at the same time, Mark was in _severe_ shock and also severe _shame_. His crush was _literally_ pressing into him, and not _accidentally_ this time. Anyway, it didn't take much for Jack to loosen his grip and snatch the tiny slip of paper containing his number on it.  
     "Hah! Who's winnin' _now_ , _Merkipoop_?" He flashed a shit eating grin, pulling away from the American and shoving the paper into his back pocket. "Puttin' it ' _ere_ , since I know yeh won' be grabbin' me _arse_."  
     Mark didn't know what to say, rendered silent by his discomfortiture and mortification. Jack and Ethan were laughing, and it was pretty easy to tell that the two would become good friends. Mark hadn't expected the little twinge of jealousy he felt, but he shoved it aside, letting out a little squeak. "I'm going to go do my job, b-bye!"   
     And he scurried away to find something to busy himself with.

* * *

     Mark's shift had just ended, and he'd endured _ages_ of torture from Ethan, Amy, Kathryn, and now Tyler, who had been given _all_ the details on their break. 

     He'd changed out of his uniform and into some jeans and his blue button up shirt, the sleeves rolled up to the elbow. He'd escaped hell officially at 1:30 that day, so admittedly a _little_ early, but he'd been offered to go and Jack had already left.  
     Ah, _Jack_. The man had Mark's phone number now. How _terrifying_. He pulled out his phone, his folded uniform tucked in his free arm. Sure enough, he had a text from a new number that claimed to be looking someone looking for their Prince Charming.  
     He giggled, rolling his eyes and typing out a reply while exiting the building. ' _Your wish is my command, princess._ ' He stared at his now sent message for a second before adding on in another text. ' _Where'd you zoom off to today? Saw your Irish ass running out again._ '  
     Mark stared at his phone for a few minutes before turning it off and sticking it into his back pocket. His apartment was about a five minute walk from here, and Ethan actually lived in the same building. It was why they walked together. Mark had a car, but gas was just extra expenses and it was _extremely_ unnecessary to drive to work anyway.  
     Even as he climbed a few flights of stairs to his apartment and unlocked his door, Jack still hadn't responded. For a second, Mark was a little concerned about it, but then he recalled Ethan mentioning that he was part of a play. He assumed he was at a rehearsal for it, and couldn't get to his phone.   
     With a heavy sigh, he plopped down on the couch, feeling extremely tired for _no_ apparent reason. All the humiliation and events of the day must've taken a toll on him or something. He was _so fucking sleepy_.  
     His intention was just to rest his eyes, but of course that became him falling asleep entirely. He hadn't _meant_ to do it, obviously.  
     What awoke him was the sound of his phone getting completely fucking _nuked_. Mark thought someone must've _died_ or someone was in the hospital or something, because _God_ , the texts were _incessant_. Feeling panicky, he grabbed his phone from the coffee table, nearly rolling off the couch in his haste.  
     Turning it on, he noted that he'd been asleep for about three hours. His phone told him he had a couple missed calls from Ethan, one from Jack, about a million texts from Ethan, and a few of them from Jack.  
     Should've fucking _known_ Ethan was the culprit here.  
     Unlocking his phone, he checked the texts he had from Jack first.

     _Jack (2:56 P.M.): >///<_  
 _Jack (2:57 P.M.): i'll set your name in my phone to Prince Charming if you make mine Princess :p photo evidence!!_  
 _Jack (2:58 P.M.): also i'm sorry!!! I'm kind of part of this project thing it's important to me and I had a thing for it :D_  
 _Jack (3:34 P.M.): fuck i accidentally called you IGNORE THAT_

     Mark giggled. His texting was so _cutesy_ , with the little faces and added exclamation marks, all on top of how rambly the messages were. It was _adorable_. He just responded, ' _Deal on the princess thing! I'll do it in sevond. Anyway it's ok. What's the project? Also.. sorry I'm late, I fell asleep haha._ '  
     Pressing send, he went to check his conversation with Ethan.

     _Blue boi (3:43 P.M.): FINALLY ANOTHER SECOND TO GET ON MY PHONE_  
 _Blue boi (3:44 P.M.): WHY DID YOU LEAVE EARLY DICKKKKK WTF >:(_  
 _Blue boi (3:44 P.M.): We're gonna have to throw hands, loser!! Also Jack is telling me you're ignoring him, I'm gonna have to run back to the appt and beat you up_  
 _Blue boi (3:57 P.M.): NOW YOU'RE IGNORING ME_  
 _Blue boi (3:58 P.M.): WHAT THE HELLLL_  
 _Blue boi (3:58 P.M.): YOU CAN'T IGNORE ME FOREVER_  
 _Blue boi (4:00 P.M.): I'M ALWAYS WATCHING_  
 _Blue boi (4:00 P.M.): BABE WHAT HAVE I DONE 2 DESERVE THIS TREATMENT_  
 _Blue boi (4:01 P.M.): YOU'RE MAKING ME CRY BAAAAAAAAAABE_

     It was currently 4:04 P.M., and he'd actually been awoken by a missed call from Ethan. He typed _furiously_ , ' _WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK DUDE I WAS ASLEEP STOP BLOWING MY PHONE UP I WASNT IGNORING ANYONE CAN YOU NOT_ ' and sending it. Of course, he wasn't _actually_ mad. He just liked giving Ethan hell.   
     Just as he'd finished typing it, he got a reply from Jack.

     _Jack (4:06 P.M.): nah you're fine :p_  
 _Jack (4:06 P.M.): it's a play. Stupid, I know. I'm the lead role in it haha :DD_

     While he was thinking about it, he went ahead and changed Jack's name in his phone to 'Princess owo' and screenshotted it. Quickly, he went back and replied, ' _Not stupid, wtf? That's the coolest?? Dude I work at a mattress store. Anyway, totally need to watch one of your rehearsals_ ' and sending it. He also threw in the screenshot. He laughed to himself, pressing the power button on his phone and staring up at the ceiling.  
     He felt pretty content. Rubbing his eyes, he clambered to his feet with a little grunt, phone still in hand. Mark stumbled to the kitchen to grab something to eat, checking his phone when it dinged.

     _Princess owo (4:09 P.M.): Oh GOD you actually did it um okay ah shit never fail to impress me_  
 _Princess owo (4:10 P.M.): please never come see my rehearsals oh god I'll die oh god_  
 _Princess owo (4:10 P.M.): Hey, you MET me at that mattress store :(_  
 _Princess owo (4:11 P.M.): also I did it :p_

     Attached was a screenshot showing Mark's name as "Prince Charming ;3" and Mark could've _cried_. He stopped to text him back. ' _I am pretty impressive heheheh'_ and ' _But you're probably so good, what the fuckkkkkk :(_ ' and ' _I guess I did meet you there oops_ ' and lastly, ' _okay. That makes us even!!_ '  
     Instantly, Jack was typing back, and Mark found himself absently sitting down at the table. His elbow rested on the wood, and he sat his head in his hand, gazing at his phone with a dazed smile on his face.   
     He snapped back into reality when another text bubble appeared on the screen. Excitedly, he read it.

     _Princess owo (4:15 P.M.): whatever dork_  
 _Princess owo (4:15 P.M.): Hey are you busy rn?? :p_

     Mark shot back his text immediately, telling the truth. ' _No not at all, why?_ '

     _Princess owo (4:16 P.M.): cause I was wondering if you wanted to hang out tn or something!! Yknow just if you wanna we don't have to I mean like yknow_  
 _Princess owo (4:17 P.M.): it'd just be_  
 _Princess owo (4:17 P.M.): cool_  
 _Princess owo (4:17 P.M.): I guess_

     The American giggled to himself, his cheeks heating up a little when he realized how _probably_ insane he would sound if anyone heard him. Ah, well. He lived alone, so that was a luxury in its own ways.  
     ' _I'd fuckin love to. We can go to that weird diner across town?? It's not fancy or anything. Just tell me if you're down and I'll pick you up at like.. 6?_ '  
     There was a small break in the stream of texts, but it was _pretty_ much minuscule, really. Just a couple of minutes, and Jack's response was in front of his eyes.

     _Princess owo (4:23 P.M.): that sounds rad :p I'll be waiting, Prince Charming!!!_  
 _Princess owo (4:23 P.M.): six on the dot!! :D_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehe pure fluff


	3. you're the flowers on the front porch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack isn't so sure about the dinner date...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IN MY EXCITEMENT TO POST I ENTIRELY FORGOT TO LEAVE A NOTE
> 
> First off, 'm sorry this took ages! I've been... unashamedly diving into everything Anti/Manti/Danti/anything-involving-my favorite-boy literally head first. If not that, I was in too angsty of a mood to write this.
> 
> Secondly, this is a bit subpar, but understand Ive been writing gore and NSFW kinky sex, I need to get back into the swing of good pure fluff xD
> 
> Thanks for reading!!

     Mark hadn't changed his clothes, but he _had_ put a little bit of effort into dolling himself up; by this, he meant he'd tried to tame his hair and ultimately failed.  
     He pulled out his phone. The clock read 5:27, which gave him like, 30 minutes. Jack had texted him his address, and he only lived about 15 minutes away. Cool.  
     In the meantime, he was just sort of sitting around, unsure about what he should do. Having no other sort of idea in mimd, he lazily tapped around on his phone until he found himself on Ethan's chat.  
     _Fuck it._  
    _'Jack and I are going out tonight and before you say shit dON'T MAKE A BIG DEAL OUT OF IT!!'_  
     He pretty much _instantly_ regretted pressing the send button. That was _actual_ suicide right there. He _knew_ how it was gonna end, so why did he even say anything? Well, whatever. Ethan probably would've figured it out _somehow_. Perhaps it'd be better through him. Heresay might bring something up that wasn't true. It happened all too often.  
     His phone chimed his ring tone, and he jumped, squeaking a little. He'd never admit that to _anyone_. After fumbling with his phone, his hands quivering a little, he squinted his eyes at the contact name. It read "Princess owo," which told him Jack was the caller.  
     With another shocked, high-pitched noise, he quickly tapped the green "Accept Call" button and held it to his ear. He was instantly met with Jack, who was in a panicked ramble.  
     " _Maerk_! Yeh picked up... I was so fockin' scared yeh wouldn' even _show up_ , an' then I 'ad ta call, 'cause it was botherin' me so much, an' I didn' wanna be ditched _again,_ an' I should 'ave trusted ya, 'm _so sorry_ I didn', i's jus' th'way I am an' I-"  
     Mark was extremely lost, unable to understand half of what he was saying with the accent and fast talking combination. "Jack, Jack, slow down, I can't even understand you! I'm getting in the car right now, okay? You're okay, I'm going to pick you up. I wouldn't ditch you. We just met, but I _really_ like you, so I wouldn't fuck that up." He cut him off gently but firmly, grabbing his keys and wallet and rushing out the door.  
     There was silence on the other end for a couple minutes, until Jack finally spoke, voice quiet. "Righ'. Yeah. 'M sorry."  
     Mark hopped into his car, jamming the key into the ignition and turning it on. " _No_ , don't be," He slammed the door shut. "It's not your fault. Are you ready for tonight? I'm about to start the drive there."  
     "Uhh, yeah. Yeah, I am, w'en should I expect yeh?"  
     "15, 20 minutes, depends on the traffic. You okay?" Mark turned the phone on speaker so he could drive and talk at once.  
     "Yeah, 'm fine. I jus', I always really like ot'er people t'at I meet an' t'ey don' like me, y'know? I got scared, it was _dumb_ , 'm sorry, Merk."  
     Mark shook his head before remembering that Jack couldn't see him. Blushing at his stupidity, he sighed. "You're okay, Jack. _I_ like _you_ probably more than _you_ like _me_."  
     Jack laughed at him, and Mark scoffed. "What? Are you doubting me right now?" He tried to sound hurt, chuckling a little. "I have the power of God _and_ anime on _my_ side!" _Yes_ , he quoted the vine, and his imitation was _impeccable_.  
     The man on the other end was hysterical with laughter, wheezing and clearly unable to speak. So, they spent a good five minutes just laughing at one another. When they both stopped, one of them would giggle again and it'd be back to the fits.  
     This back and forth continued for most of the drive, up until Mark was about 5 minutes from Jack's house. He notified him of this, and Jack seemed pretty excited. Mark was too, really. He figured they'd have a nice time.  
     "Fucking Ethan is texting me. He must be off work." Mark reported, glancing at his phone but not picking it up. That was an accident waiting to happen.  
     "Yeah. 'E really _is_ sweet, bu' 'e gets pretty excited eas'ly."  
     Mark hummed in response, making a sharp turn because he'd almost missed the exit. He let out a huff, pinching his eyebrows together. "Right. He's my best friend, though, so I love him. He keeps me grounded." Last second, he remembered that Jack mentioned how pretty he thought white roses were and decided on a detour.  
     "An' gets yeh dates?" Jack asked, giggling.  
     The American was silent, pursing his lips together. His response was clipped. "…you wouldn't be the first..." He grabbed his phone and climbed out of the car, turning it off speaker and holding it to his ear while he ran into the petite flower shop, quickly grabbing a bouquet of white roses.  
     And Jack was laughing again, with Mark pouting and complaining about how rude he was. "Stop being mean. Besides, you're the only one I've actually been _interested_ in. That's... oh _God_ , I'm gonna regret this… actually the reason he tricked us into the gay death trap."  
     "Is t'at so?"  
     Mark hummed, uttering a quick "have a nice day" to the cashier and shuffling out.  
     "Who're ye talkin' teh?"  
     The American blinked and licked his lips, half running the small distance from the door to his car. Out of breath, he answered, "…W-what?" He panted ever so slightly. "You, why?"  
     As he hopped back into the vehicle, Jack responded, "Mmhm. If yeh say so."  
     The rest of the ride was casual chit-chat and easy jokes between the two of them, up until Mark was turning the final corner onto Jack's road. His house was in view now.  
     "I see yer car. See yeh, doof."  
     The call was cut off, and Mark groaned, pulling into Jack's driveway. He shifted it into park and jumped out, keys in hand, flowers behind his back, slamming the door behind him. Jack had stated that he'd seen Mark's car, but Mark sure didn't see _him_. With a huff, he trotted up the porch steps and crossed to the door.  
     He took one of the hands he had clasped around the bouquet and knocked on the door, shifting his weight impatiently from foot to foot. After a couple minutes of silence, Mark got a little worried, so he knocked louder this time, calling Jack's name and standing on his toes to peek into the window.  
     Mark was just about to barge in when a very Irish scream caught his attention. He jumped, emitting a startled squeak and whipping around to face the noise and possibly save Jack from like… a kidnapper or something, but all he was met with was a cackling Jack.  
     "Ye were so scared! Oh God, t'at was _so funny…"_ He wiped tears of joy from his blue eyes, breathing labored and quick. "Fockin' 'ell, I didn' know ye were so easy ta scare, big guy." Playfully, Jack elbowed him and winked, smiling softly.  
     Mark's eyes slowly narrowed and he pushed Jack gently. "Fucking god _dammit_ , Jack! I was so scared, you dick! I'm cancelling our date, fuck you, fuck _this_ , I _hate you!_ " He tried to be upset, he really did, but the grin on Jack's face broke him. "Okay, _okay_ , you got me. But don't let your guard down, princess." The nickname was a slip of the tongue, something that, in this short time of talking to Jack, he'd grown used to using. Still, Jack noticeably flushed, playing anxiously with his green hair. Mark couldn't help but feel sheepish. "Ah, uh… habit. _Anyway_ -"  
     "The roses," Jack prompted, his eyes wide. "I saw 'em. Who're t'ey fer?" His expression was innocent and genuine, and he was chewing on his bottom lip, eyes averted from Mark.  
     "What? _You_ , ya _goof_." He gave Jack a sincere smile, pulling the flowers from behind his back. "I, uh… remembered you said you liked white roses on my way here so I stopped and…" He cleared his throat to stop his nervous rambling. " _Yeah_. These are for _you_ , Jack." His voice was quiet as he held out the bouquet expectantly, daring to let his gaze flicker to the man.  
     He was blushing furiously, admiring the gift with awe and glee. A tiny smile graced his features, his pink lips parted a little as he gasped, light and airy. "T'ank ye so much, Merk. T'ey… they're _gorgeous_. Ye didn' 'ave ta…"  
     "Oh, don't be like that. Take your flowers, doof. It'll be midnight before we get to the car at this pace."  
     Jack's smile widened a fraction and he gently grabbed the flowers, hugging them to his chest. "Can I go put 'em in water really fas'?" He asked, biting his lip.  
     Mark's eyebrows furrowed a little. "Yeah, of course, Jack." He was going to ask if he was feeling okay, because he seemed a little on edge and paranoid, and extremely nervous too. It was on the tip of his tongue, but he held it back, afraid to hit a soft spot.  
     So he stood in the light of the sunset, patiently waiting for the Irishman's return. He took it as a moment to think about everything he didn't have time to ponder on with Jack in front of him.  
     First of all, he was _so adorable_. The soft glow of the setting sun touched his face just right, and even though Mark had never been good at identifying his feelings, he knew he loved that. His hair, looking as silky as ever, was tossed this way and that, as though he'd been in the wind. The amount of disheveled was _just_ _right_ ; enough to make Jack look _real_ and _lovable_ and _easy-going,_ but not to where it looked like he didn't care about how he apppeared. It was just… right. Normal. _Perfect_. He loved _that_ , too.  
     Jack was just so… touchable.  
     The door opened again, and Jack nimbly slipped out, looking a little pale. Mark's eyebrows furrowed _again_ , because he couldn't help but wonder if Jack wanted to go out at all.  
     They stared at each other for a moment before Jack's face reddened again, and rubbed one of his arms self consciously. "W-what?"  
     "Are you feeling okay?"  
     Jack pursed his lips and his fingers dug into his upper arm so hard his knuckles turned white. His response was clipped. "Yeah."  
     Mark sniffed a little, frowning in thought. "Jack, we don't know each other well, but you don't need to lie to me. I understand if you'd rather stay home. We can rain check or something."  
     The Irishman's eyes widened and he was quiet before letting out a little sigh. His gaze shifted to the ground. "…'m sorry. T'day has… it 'asn't been treatin' me well. It kinda went ta shite, an' I was really excited ta go out wit'ya. 'M jus' not feelin' the whole... _public thing._ " He looked down-trodden and guilty, his hands waving through the air to emphasize his words.  
     Mark shook his head. "Stop. I can tell you're feeling guilty, and I don't want you to, because I understand. I'll go so you can be alone, okay? Keep the flowers and-"  
     " _No_!"  
     He flinched, taken aback by the sudden shout. Taking a step back, he opened his mouth to ask what was up, but Jack cut him off.  
     "'M sorry, jus'… please don' go. We can hang out 'ere, y'know, just us. Play video games or somethin'… I dunno, only if ye 'ave time ta."  
     Mark couldn't help but chuckle.  
     "I- w-what...? Stop laughin' at me…"  
     "No, no," Mark smiled a little. "I'm not laughing _at_ you. You're just… really cute when you're flustered. Of _course I'll stay,_ Jack. Video games sounds like a damn good plan to me."  
     Jack's eyes widened and his hand ran through his hair. "No! Stop callin' me cute, ye _bastard_ … bu'… I'd… I'd like it. If yeh stayed, I mean."  
     Mark decided to attempt to lighten the mood. With a smug grin, he snorted and asked, "You gonna invite me in?"  
     "Shut th'fock up!" Jack laughed, punching Mark's broad shoulder. He shot him a playful glare before turning to the door and holding it open for Mark. "Inta th'castle, me prince?" He teased, eyes bright.  
     "Only 'cause _you're_ gonna be there, your Majesty." He giggled as he bowed a little before strolling in, listening to the door click shut behind him. The house was nice, and quite tidy. So tidy that Mark wondered how often Jack was actually _here_.  
     The walls were mostly pale colors, and all of the furniture was dark; reds and blacks, mostly. It was a cute little home. _Extremely_ charming. It really did suit Jack surprisingly well.  
     He was in the middle of enjoying the atmosphere of the lovely abode when his phone dinged and vibrated, telling him he'd gotten a text. Admittedly, he jumped a little, earning a giggle from Jack, who was settling on the couch and rummaging through something. Even as he opened his phone to reply, he knew it was Ethan.

     _Blue boi (6:06 P.M.): OTP OTP OTP!!!! WHERE ARE YOU GUYS GOING OMG I'M DEAD I'M GONE I CAN'T STOP SQUEALING._

     Mark rolled his eyes to himself and quickly punched in a response. _'I'm at his house. Nothing is happening. Nothing will happen. Don't even, Ethan I swear on my life'_  
     He shut off his phone, earning a quizzical glance from Jack. Mark flashed him an apologetic smile, striding over to the black leather couch. A pale wool blanket was draped over it, slightly askew, and an almost identical one accompanied the recliner.  
     As he went to take a seat, Jack stood, suddenly looking stressed. Mark plopped down, watching Jack fidget with cute little decorations lined on a hectagonal shelf attached to the wall. He saw a cactus, some painted pottery, a few plushies, and what looked like photos of perhaps family members. Other quirky little items were arranged there: seashells; pretty little rocks; and abstract, yet beautiful, small sculpture-like structures made of what appeared to be bent and shaped metal material.  
     And then Jack flitted over to three cloth-covered boards, painted over to show a monotone and diluted images of white flowers. It worked well against the slate color of the walls in the room.  
     Even his lamps were quirky and unique; actually, _everything_ was special. His lighting, his decor, his coffee table. He especially enjoyed the light fixture in the room; it resembled a tumble weed with a light in the middle. It was very pretty, and just… _Jack_. It was all so fitting for his personality.  
     He came to the realization that he was being completely silent when Jack awkwardly cleared his throat. Mark's eyes pried from a synthetic plant and over to the Irishman, whose hands were clasped behind his back, his toes stretching out and pulling back to bounce him up and down.  
     "Shit, I'm sorry," Mark said in a hurry. "Your house is _lovely_. Like. _Christ_ , I dunno, it's adorable, and it fits you, and like, I don't know, it's just _cute_."  
     The tension in his shoulders seemed to ease a little, and he slumped over into a more natural and comfortable position. He offered an embarrassed smile, pink flushing his cheeks. "Shut up." He muttered, playfully glaring at Mark.  
     A sly smirk twisted onto his own features without thought, and he hopped up from the couch. With a raised brow, he asked, "Are you just gonna stand there?"  
     "…Uhm!" Baby blue eyes darted around the room. "No! I jus'… st- _stay here_ , jus' fer a second!"  
     And if Mark wasn't so used to his _own_ fast-paced speech, he wouldn't have understood what Jack had even said.


End file.
